


Poisonous enticement

by ButanolMusket (EthanolMusket)



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: F/M, Manipulation, Oneshot, Sex, Underage - Freeform, and his crush on gyokuen, judal character development while in al thamen, jugyokuen, mention of other characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:12:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9203348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EthanolMusket/pseuds/ButanolMusket
Summary: 'He makes up his mind: he will make her his bride someday, no matter what her children or husband have to say, after all, he is a magi and he deserves everything in the world, at least that’s what everyone keeps repeating.'Judal's child crush with Gyokuen, its evolution and descent.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I like to explore Judal's life in Al Thamen and wanted to write about his crush on Gyokuen. This work focuses on his feelings towards her, and contains several sex scenes (even if not too explicit, since the focus here is on Judal's evolving feelings) of said characters. The first scene occurs when he is underage (less than 18), so it is tagged properly. This can be linked to my previous fanfiction 'Good boy'. Read under your own will.

He stares at her, a beautiful woman with light blue eyes. Like the deep skies before the afternoon’s red color tint everything. He holds her hand many times that day, soft and tender to the touch, yet he is able to decipher the cold intentions behind her grasp. But he doesn’t care, he is young and in love with her. He makes up his mind: he will make her his bride someday, no matter what her sons or husband have to say, after all, he is a magi and he deserves everything in the world, at least that’s what everyone keeps repeating.

“Little Judal, I cut some peaches for you” her saccharine voice is haunting and soothing at the same time, as the little boy skips her way, climbing on her lap, eating the fresh piece of peach from her hand. Like a little trained bird he flies to her call, he doesn’t care much, he is small, he wants the attention, he is in love. He hugs her and plays with her soft braids, as she cradles him and sings for him almost in whispers, a lullaby that sends shivers down his spine, distant and melancholic. The black birds fluttering around her seem to join in the song. His eyes feel heavy and close little by little, until everything turns black.

He always feels dizzy after her songs, but it doesn’t matter as long as she holds him so closely. The next day, he escapes from his magic lessons just to look for her. He finds her talking to her husband and can’t help but stare and wonder if he’ll grow to be a man to her liking. Emperor Hakutouku secures her hand on his and kisses her lips, Judal can’t help but stare from his hideout, he inspects as the kisses grow even deeper. He doesn’t understand, why do adults do that, isn’t it blissful enough to eat and play together?

Judal’s curiosity grows more and more. He wonders how kissing her would feel, but decides to brush those thoughts away. He runs out of his hideout and clings to her leg. Gyokuen looks puzzled for a second before carrying and cradling him. The emperor says his farewells and falters away. The little magi is just happy to be in her arms again, as he reaches for her lips with his hand, feeling them curiously.

“What is it, Judal?” she smiles at him and pets his head. He reaches forward and gives her a peck on the lips, it’s quick and shy, and the boy looks away after doing it.

“I wanted to see how it felt like…”

The empress chuckles and places him down carefully. “You are a lively boy, but you’re too young to do that, Judal…I have some things to do, why don’t you go play with Hakuryuu for a while?”

He nods and she makes her way to the group of veiled magicians nearby, disappearing inside the meeting room. The rukh seems disturbed, and he has a feeling that is the last time he is going to see the emperor.

 

* * *

 

Years go by in the blink of an eye. He rests lazily on top of a peach tree in the garden, eating one ripe fruit, eyes staring with no real interest to the blue sky. He is hiding from the magicians; today he doesn’t feel like hearing them blabber about political stuff, rolling his eyes, and yawning when the old men bother him with stupid pleas of being a good magi and how important it is to assist to the meetings. He doesn’t care about any of that at all. A sudden buzz interrupts the tranquility of the garden, red eyes fluttering open and looking down. There she is, under his tree, smiling at him, bearing the same bright yet somber smile that has haunted him since childhood.

“Judal, shouldn't you be somewhere else?”

“They bore me with their stupid stuff and the new emperor disgusts me so much” he wrinkles his nose to emphasize his point and throws the half eaten peach away.

“He is not that bad, after all, he is the emperor of the Kou Empire, a powerful nation that stands above all other countries” she replies in her usual sing song voice.

Judal eyes her with a poker face and jumps down the tree in a quick motion, landing right in front of her, as skilled as a cat.

“You know, this country is what it is because of me, I gave power to the king candidates here, and yet you say that pig managed anything?!” he barked at her, red eyes flaring.

“My…” her eyes widen a bit in surprise “What are you talking about, Judal?”

“Don’t give me that, you chose that pig, even if I’m way better”

Gyokuen’s eyes soften, but there’s that sparkle in her eyes that can only mean danger. She cups Judal’s face with a touch like feathers, stroking his cheek with her pale, soft hand, almost caringly.

“Judal, you are too young to see these things-“

“I am not!” he raged in return, holding her wrists. “I am mature enough!”

Gyokuen smiles tenderly as she moves towards him, locking her lips with the magi’s. Judal is quite surprised and not prepared for this, but he reciprocates the kiss nonetheless, opening his lips and sliding his tongue in her lenient mouth a bit roughly, holding her close to him. After what almost seemed eternal, Judal breaks the kiss, dilated red pupils staring at her, his cheeks bright red, which is too evident in his snow white skin. She is still smiling as calm as ever, unfazed.  She caresses his face once more before turning to leave, followed only by the gaze of those red eyes.  

Later at night, he is again touching those lips and playing with her braids, in a different way than he used to when he was a child. His hands run down on soft skin, leaving a pink trail when he presses his digits on her white canvas. He likes to think this is his mark on her. She is on top of him, he strives to touch every part of her body he can reach, she grinds against him, grasping his pelvis with her thighs. Her movements are not too quick nor slow, just perfect to send shivers down his spine, he has to bite his lower lip not to make a sound. He has some experiences with women and men alike, but even if his experiences with men have been more gratifying to him, Gyokuen knows very well how to please him and she is not shy at all to show it. She touches him in ways no woman touches a man, in ways that drive him to madness as he basks in pure pleasure and ecstasy.  They last all the night, the flame getting revived even after climaxing over and over, he is young and his stamina is not depleted with much ease, and she just knows what she is doing. In the morning, she leaves while he sleeps, and that doesn’t surprise the magi at all, but the emptiness in his bed slithers into his heart.

They meet each other under the veil of the night a couple of times, until Judal has to leave the empire with the magicians due to training and politics, and he reluctantly does. They don’t say goodbye, it’s not like them, at least not in an affectionate way, but words are not needed when they are replaced by hoarse moans and heavy panting on satin sheets in his chambers. His trip takes longer than what he expected, his desire for her is not easily quenched with courtesans, they don’t feel the same, they don’t touch the same, they don’t hurt the same. But he is not one to linger over something so trivial, as he finds cheap thrills with men he meets at night in a bar. He enjoys the calloused hands on his soft skin, the strong grip on his limbs until they bruise, the aching running through his body in the aftermath. It’s a different kind of satisfaction that can’t quite compare, with them he feels his body used in a twisted yet fulfilling way, with her he feels as she pries his flesh open and presses with icy, small fingers every nerve that sends his sanity flying out the window, he feels vulnerable, not necessarily safe, but the danger is part of the spell that he enjoys so much.

* * *

 

When he returns he doesn’t do it as the young boy that left. He is taller, his facial features sharper yet with an ethereal beauty that turns a lot of heads his way, a revealing black outfit that makes his pristine porcelain skin glow. She is there, the same eyes, the same forged smile, the same soft hands running down the skin on his face, the bridge and tip of his nose, the rose of his lips. She praises him; he has grown so much and gotten stronger. He smirks back, that is expected of him after all, and he knows later that night they’ll continue their anarchic reunion in her chambers, now that her husband is sick and in the infirmary. It’s not that she is engraved in his soul as deeply as before, but he can’t deny the adrenaline that her body gives him. Now he pushes her down unto soft sheets, he pries her hair loose, he runs his teeth over immaculate skin, he wants to stain it, he wants to taint it, since it might be the only part of her left to taint. Their black rukh buzzing in unison just makes him feel more elevated, his movements becoming quicker and erratic, the friction against her tight, warm walls is almost overwhelming, and with a soft grunt he climaxes along her, clinging to her as if his life depended of it. His hair is a mess, his eyes are clouded, his face is flushed and he has to swallow his saliva and the overpowering sensation all over his being, while her face is calm, and pretty, her eyes deeper. Like a porcelain doll. He finds it a bit eerie, but does his best to ignore the uneasiness and buries his head on the crevice of her neck as she runs her hands through his silky hair.

She makes him feel so elevated between sheets, but the higher you fly, the harder the fall. He wakes up alone, cold sweat beads trickling down his forehead. She’s like a drug, tempting and enthralling at first, yet icy and cruel in the end.  It’s not love, he knows this for certain, he doesn’t love her anymore, it was a child’s crush that turned into an addiction. He hates himself when he looks for her in the cover of the night, when he tells himself this is the last time. He dreads the suffocating sensation in his lungs when he is next to her, as if he is breathing poison and she is slowly killing him.

Eventually, he is assigned more work and she is always busy, it has been weeks since their last encounter when he receives news; he must go to Balbadd. As he is ready to part on his magic carpet with Markkio, the empress appears, her gaze as soft as ever yet terrifying since the darkness behind those eyes is like an endless pit. Soft lips are pressed unto the rose of his, as she bids him farewell, and he can’t help but think about that kiss during the entire journey. 

However things are different once they reach Balbadd. It’s like a breath of fresh air when he’s not around her, even if the veiled magicians reek of that heaviness, it can’t compare to hers. Nothing can. 

...

 

Little does he know, that trip to Balbadd would change everything. And when it does, it’s like lightning hitting his body and soul, pretend peace of mind transforms into a theory rather than something achievable. He locks himself in his chambers back in the Kou Empire. It’s lucky he is a powerful sorcerer and can manipulate sound magic because his furious screams would have certainly drawn attention. He screeches, breaks expensive vases and relics, tear silk blankets and robes, burns manuscripts. Every observable thing, he destroys, and when there’s nothing left, he digs his nails on his arms, bites his lower lip until crimson droplets run free down his chin to the floor.

The idea he had a chance at becoming whatever he wanted, to choose his own king and build a kingdom by his side, just increases his frustration and anger. He is being used and not given a choice of anything, since the beginning. He has obeyed them to avoid the nightmares, but in reality he isn’t one of the most important beings in the world, but a mere slave, a doll with no will to choose and do. He hugs himself and refuses to leave his chambers for two days straight, he is certain some of the Kou Empire king vessels have knocked on his door, but he refuses their call. Did he even choose them himself?

On the third day, he finally steps out. The maids quickly fix his disheveled hair, some magicians heal his wounds, he is bathed, and given the plumpest peaches of the whole empire. He eats absentmindedly, in silence for a change, the cooks and maids find this behavior weird, the veiled magicians don’t comment on it at all.

At night his skin glows with the moonlight as he prowls down the outer hall, right to the empress’ chambers. The doors aren’t locked as they welcome him in. She is sitting on the bed, hair undone, stark naked. He knows she is not young, but her body doesn’t show any sign of aging, she looks otherworldly and dangerous, yet beautiful and alluring.  
  
“Were you waiting for me?” he asks in an undertone, stepping gingerly towards her.

“Not really, I left the door open just in case” she replies, her trademark forged, placid smile adorning her face.   

Should he confront her? He asks this question over and over inside his head, but as reckless and vicious as he is, he knows this is not the time, and that he lacks what it takes to take her down. A sudden quick movement of his hands secures her face between his cold palms and he presses his lips against hers, his tongue sliding inside her mouth, running along every corner of her it could reach. She gasps in surprise, it brings him joy to throw her off guard for a change, he climbs on the bed and pins her down against the mattress without breaking the kiss. She reciprocates, unwinding his braid with her magic, but before her fingers find his skin, he holds her legs and wraps them around him. This time he will not let her dominate, this time he will have control, and he does as he enters her and fondles her plump breasts, she gives in to the touch and allows him to ravage her. Gyokuen is clearly confused, but he refuses to give her time to take control and she seems to enjoy this new approach of their encounters. In no time she hugs him and digs her nails into his skin, it hurts but the adrenaline and ecstasy mixes with rage and he keeps on. This time he is not letting her make him vulnerable, this time he bruises her flawless skin, and she scratches his. This time, both of them are covered in bite marks, and sweat. Both of them are breathing heavily, grunting, moaning, and panting.

Hours passes and it’s almost morning. Judal sits on the bed and lets her take a breath. He reaches for his clothes and slides in them almost immediately, heading to the door, he turns to see her blushing face.

She doesn’t utter a word, and just watches him leave. When the magi walks out, he feels refreshed, he feels as he just broke his chains that bind him to her. Judal takes a deep breath of fresh air, and exhales soundly, a wide grin embellishing his face.  

“Well, that wasn’t half bad for a last time. Next time I look for you, it will be to fucking murder you, Ren Gyokuen” he promises himself, as he pads back to his room.  

 


End file.
